Day 5

Today was a...weird day.

This morning my eyes were so swollen that I startled my neighbors when I went to grab the paper. I was very dizzy and I couldn't formulate coherent sentences. Luckily, I made some strong coffee and ate toast with wasabi butter. Shortly thereafter, I read a few kooky stories involving cockroaches and pseudo basements, peep shows and identity wigs!

When I was in prison and I first began to write, there was a writing exercise that a fellow inmate, Homes, taught me. He said: "Curt, describe yourself through a metaphor, you know, make a, what's it called? oh yeah, a comparison without using the words like or as." And I said, "I'm a window that won't open." And he said, "Not bad." I'm remembering this now because I'm sitting in front of a window looking out at the snow. Yes, it's snowing out.

I used to take so many things for granted. A window in a prison is much different from a window in a home. I know this seems obvious, but its startlingly true. You can get lost looking out a window from home, but from prison, a window is a constant and remorseful reminder of the past.

That's a bit heavy, but like I said, it's been a...weird day.

There are so many things I have to write about! But I also have to make some dinner because I'm famished. Before I leave--an interesting fact about butter:

Pioneers used paper to construct windows. In order to create transparent windows, butter was applied to the paper.